


Proud Peacock

by myLITTLEnekoSHIRO



Category: Bleach
Genre: Abuse, M/M, POV First Person, POV Male Character, Peacock, Prostitution, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 19:58:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myLITTLEnekoSHIRO/pseuds/myLITTLEnekoSHIRO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had no fashion sense whatsoever. But we both liked blood and we both liked sex. I guess it could work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proud Peacock

**Author's Note:**

> Yumichika's POV
> 
> Inspired by Bleach Episode 119 where they show a flashback of Ikkaku meeting Kenpachi for the first time. Thought I'd do a oneshot of how Yumichika and Ikkaku met. And I have to admit, Yumichika looked effeminately handsome in that episode. Guess it was the long hair XD
> 
> It might not be good but I just felt like writing it. Trying to get over jet lag right now. And I like doing POVs. Fun.

First time I saw a forget-me-not in bloom, I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I had snapped it off neatly, admiring the open petals of pure blue and a splash of gold in the middle, and pinned it in my hair. I couldn't wait to show it to mother.

Though as soon as I skipped into my house my stepfather saw me.

He ripped the flower from my hair and stomped angrily on it, making it a mushy stain on the wooden floor. Then he slapped me. I spat out blood later.

**111**

I wasn't from a rich family. I wasn't from a poor family either. We just lived well enough that I didn't see many beggars on our streets. Mother was beautiful. Silky locks pinned perfectly in a bun, elegant neck, milky skin. People said she looked like a geisha. They also said I looked like her.

Father was stoic but decent. He had a full head of hair which was a good sign, especially for me. I would simply die if I became bald at his age.

Then he died from tuberculosis. It was tragic, really. Unexpected, some murmured. Unfortunate, others whispered. Bad luck, many stated. Mother had to marry immediately before the next waxing moon otherwise she would lose all her prestige and beauty. She married her first suitor.

**111**

Horrible man. I hated him from the start. No sense of style whatsoever. And his hair was thinning. A truly horrendous sign that he will be bald. I pity the sibling I might receive from him.

At least he wasn't poor. I could still eat fish and wear silk robes. But his demands took a toll on mother.

He insisted on correct behavior, no fraternizing with other men and certainly not doing anything without his permission. After just one year of marriage, mother had begun to look her age. I could easily spot the gray strands in her hair when we ate dinner; the veins on her hands and feet now stood out prominently; and her once envious rosy cheeks had begun to sag and discolor.

I, on the other hand, made sure never to comply with him which is how I kept my youthful looks. I refused to listen to him because really, his demands verged on absurdity. I don't care what his peers thought because I would rather keep my hair long, my nails manicured and my robes smelling like lilies than let him have his way.

**111**

The only thing I agreed on was taking zanjutsu because, well, believe it or not, fighting simply thrilled me. I loved the feeling of battle; the fast pulse, the lightheadedness, the maddening desire to test yourself against someone else's metal. Very addictive.

My class made fun of me at first. I was too effeminate for them to comprehend. How base.

Then some hotshot decided to challenge me. Poor thing. I suppose I shouldn't have dislocated his shoulder that badly. Doctor said it was near irreparable.

**111**

I never thirsted for blood. It was never like me. But I changed after mother's death. Quite sudden, shockingly. Actually, not shockingly enough. I saw it coming. He treated her like dirt. He didn't even cry at her funeral. Neither did I but that was because I was pissed at him. Idiotic bastard. He probably never loved her. She was just a trophy wife to him.

**111**

I thought I could keep my cool; stay out of his sight, stay out of the house, fight other boys to vent out my anger. But I just kept repressing my rage. Until one day when he touched me.

It wasn't normal, like a pat on the head or a hug or even a slap. I would have welcomed a slap.

He actually shoved me against a wall, groped my ass and began biting my neck.

Well, I snapped, obviously. I always thought he needed to wear a bit of color. Though he should avoid red. It just makes him look peaky.

Regardless to mention, it was ill for me to stay at my house what with the bloodstains everywhere. So I left that very night. Don't want to come back and don't plan to either.

**111**

I took to the lower streets of Rukongai. People wouldn't bother looking for me there. They'd think I'm too stuck up to lower myself to that level. They failed to realize that I don't really care about that. If I need to do something to succeed, I would do it. That's how the hierarchy of life is created.

That's why I decided to become a whore. Business wasn't hard for me. I was young, I was beautiful and I looked like a woman so the men were pleased when they bought me. I set the boundaries though. I had a feeling that nobody would take me seriously.

The first man who bought me was an asshole and a lecher. He wanted to stick something ridiculous, I don't care to remember, up my ass and I refused to comply. He threw a hissy fit so I sliced his throat and tossed him out the window onto the main road where all could see. After that, only the courageous ones dared buy me. They weren't many, but I managed to collect enough to still eat fish and wear my silk robes.

**111**

One day, I met the most interesting man. He was bald. He carried a wooden sword on his belt and his robe was a tad too short.

I had wrinkled my nose in distaste when he had approached me. But he had curious eyes. They were bright and determined. I was amused by them.

He asked me to follow him to an alley. He never looked back to make sure I followed. I did anyway. I wondered what he was up to.

Though as soon as we turned the corner, I raised an eyebrow when he asked me to draw my sword. I had come across plenty of crazy fetishes but his was the most unsual.

'Fight me,' he commanded. Arrogant, proud and determined. Guess that was why I felt obligated to obey.

He was an animal. An exquisite one. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Though I had to if I wanted to avoid any broken bones in my body. His fighting style was rough and unpredictable. I think the only reason I was able to survive is because I was far more graceful than he was. Plus, living in the slums had sharpened my skills and I wasn't some nabby-pabby, sniveling schoolboy.

I don't know how long we fought but by the end of it, my hair tie had broken, causing all my perfectly brushed locks to splay everywhere. There was sweat dripping down my neck and soaking my back. And I loved it.

'You fight well,' the bald man commented, sheathing his blade in his belt. 'Guess the rumors were true.'

'Which are?' I said smarmily, putting mine away in a similar fashion.

'That you look like an angel and fight like a devil.' He grinned toothily at me. Hmmm, nice, white teeth.

I snorted in reply. He bowed and left. I followed.

'You want somethin'?' he asked dully.

'Yes. My pay.'

'I didn't buy you.'

'You still bought my services. So, my pay?'

'Look, I ain't got much. I need it to get a room for the night.'

'Perfect. I haven't slept on proper bedding for years. By the way, do you happen to have a name?'

'…Madarame Ikkaku.'

'Ayasegawa Yumichika. A pleasure to meet you.'

He just snorted.

**111**

I couldn't sleep. It truly had been a while since I slept in a proper bed. It just felt odd. And to think, I used to sleep on pure cotton sheets and mattresses filled with swan feathers.

Ikkaku had fallen asleep rather easily. How lucky.

A thought crossed my mind and I smirked.

I crawled over to his side, slowly, deliberately and cautiously. He opened one eye when I straddled his hips. Provocatively. I grinded down, satisfied to feel him getting hard quickly.

'What d'you want?' he muttered. He seemed pissed but I didn't care.

My lips curled as I leaned forward, hands now running over his exposed toned chest.

'I want you to fuck me,' I whispered.

**111**

Fucking had never hurt so _good_. He was rough in bed like he was rough in battle. He slammed into me as hard as he could and I screamed till my voice went hoarse.

The friction was _mind-blowing_ ; I felt like I was transcended to the heavens.

He didn't believe in making love slowly; he liked it hard and fast, no pause required, until he reached that ultimate euphoria of sex.

When we came down from that high, he rolled over, muttering about how I should try fucking sleeping now. I just stared in awe at the ceiling, my chest heaving lightly and my insides burning and aching like it was still filled with his cock.

I couldn't help whining as I turned over; taking it rough had its disadvantages. Then I let out an exclamation of surprise as I felt a pair of hands encircle my waist.

'Just go to fucking sleep already,' Ikkaku muttered, burying his face between my shoulder blades as he spooned me from behind.

I would have retorted but I felt comfortable in a fuzzy way. He was warm and I just couldn't help closing my eyes and drifting into the most pleasant sleep I had ever had.

**111**

'What the hell do you think you're doing?' I demanded shrilly, eyeing Ikkaku with a murderous glare.

He just ignored me, tucking his sword in his belt and leaving my badly bruised customer on the ground. I was still fuming as I stomped over to him. I turned him around and without even waiting for him to react, slapped him across the face.

He blinked in surprise, but he didn't apologize. It just angered me further.

'You have _no right_ ,' I hissed out. 'To beat my clients while I am working! I need to _earn_ and _live_ here unlike you! You had your turn so do me a favor and kindly _fuck off_!'

He scowled and grabbed the front of robe. I barely flinched.

'You wanna know why I did that?' he jeered. Do enlighten me. 'Because you ain't no _whore_! You're a survivor! You can _fight_! You have pride, respect and smarts! I have no fucking clue why you're wasting yourself here but you deserve _better_. That's. _All_.'

He released me. For once, I had no answer.

He turned to leave. After a heartbeat, I followed. He didn't tell me to go away.

'Where are you going?' I asked after a while. We had just left the village.

'Dunno,' he replied with a shrug. 'I just go around fighting till I get bored.'

'Do you ever get tired of being alone?'

'Not really. As long as I can fight.'

I chuckled. What an ambitious fool.

And yet, his posture spokes volumes of pride, more than any noble I had ever seen. He was going to go places. And I hoped to be right behind him, following the very man who changed my life and probably stole my heart.


End file.
